FEAR
by Gasoline Baby
Summary: SUPERNATURAL- 2.09- ALT STORY OC Jamia Hooks has been on her own with her only friend, her cousin Anthony since she was orphaned at 13. Together they travel the country, but on one fateful night in Oregon, Jamia's life takes a sharp turn. Based on the 2.09 episode: Croatoan (Written by John Shiban, Directed by Robert Singer). Maybe I'll make a sequel who knows just have a read.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N** This is like an over the top soap opera oh my god.

* * *

I was only on a trip down the West coast of America with my cousin Anthony. Him and I had been together for the last 10 years after both our parents were killed when I was 13, and Anthony 18. I hardly knew him before that, but afterwards, he was the only family I had. Since Anthony had just turned 18 when we were orphaned, he took me in and we shared an apartment for the better half of four years. But, of course we were found by a certain someone we did not want to be found by. We got away and ended up running from Illinois altogether, the only state we knew as home. I was nearly 18 by then, but Anthony and I stayed together. We travelled a lot. Never staying in the same place too long, in fear we would be found again. When we got to Washington state a few weeks ago, I was the one to decide to drive down the West coast states. Usually we always would just drive wherever the road took us, stopping every now and then to spend a few days in a town or city where beds most often are. So on this trip, we followed a map and stopped at all the small towns. It was really nice to see such small communities, where everyone knew each other, and everyone felt like one big town-sized family. Anthony and I never minded not being apart of something like that. We were happy together, just us two. We weren't ever lonely and for us, our family was home.

* * *

"Wait, uh, just keep going straight ahead and we should be seeing a sign that says-"

"Rivergrove?" I looked up from the map in my hands, just as we past a sign that did indeed say Rivergrove, with the population of the town noted at the bottom.

"Yes. We're here." I said to Anthony, as we drove into the town. We drove down the main street, passers by looking at us in the orange '69 Timber Wolf Mustang- the car Anthony bought cheap and fixed up when we were still living in Illinois. There were very few buildings on the main street, but loads of people out and about. Anthony parked the car on the corner of a street off the main road, and we got out to go and explore and interact.

"This is such a cute town!" I squealed, looking around and seeing kids playing on a tiny playground opposite to where I was standing, their mothers looking on and chatting to each other.

"Trust you to say that, Jamia." I rolled my eyes, and put my black hair up in a ponytail and we linked arms as we walked down the main road amongst locals- almost everyone saying hello to us. We peeped in the windows of the shops, looking at all the small businesses and admiring the homeyness we always enjoyed.

* * *

After going down both sides of the main road till the houses began, Anthony went into the market store to get together a picnic. I sat on the bench outside, people watching. I saw a couple walk out of the market with a bag of groceries, hand in hand. They saw me and I smiled. As I watched them walk away, an old woman came and sat down next to me on the bench.

"Hello there." She said sweetly.

"Hi." I replied, trying my best to look as friendly as possible.

"You're not from around here, are you?"

"Is it that obvious?" I smiled more, loving the interaction.

"It's a very small town, dear. A town I've lived in for nearly 40 years. I know everyone." She said, tapping the side of her pointed nose. I clicked my tongue and looked away for a second, to have the old woman still staring at me.

"What's your name, dear?" She asked.

"Oh I'm Ida." I said, giving my fake name as I shook her bony hand.

"I'm Jennifer Collins and you should know if you plan on staying awhile, you should pay a visit to mine and my daughter's bakery just over there." She pointed over the road, where there was a little shop next to the medical clinic.

"I'll make sure to." I smiled. Mrs Collins gave a half hearted laugh, patting my knee. I smiled as she got up and hobbled back over the road to her bakery. Just as I turned back, Anthony appeared with a bag.

"lunch time!" He chorused, holding up the bag. I looked up at him blankly.

"It's like half past 2 in the afternoon. A little late for lunch, don't you think?" Anthony took my hand, lifting me from the bench.

"It's lunch time for us. I haven't eaten since last night."

"Then wouldn't it be breakfast if you're saying it like that?" Anthony raised his eyebrows with a short nod of his head, judging my input.

"Hmm, I suppose. But marshmallows, cookie dough, nacho cheese corn chips and diet coke doesn't exactly make up breakfast."

"It doesn't for lunch either!" We laughed as we walked over to the little park. Anthony placed the paper bag under a tree with the orangest leaves and we sat on the green grass shrouded with the fallen Autumn leaves from the tree above. Anthony started stuffing his face immediately. I looked up through the branches of the tree, seeing the the light turn golden through the leaves and again watched people milling about, most of them dispersing home. I stuffed my mouth with five large marshmallows and laid back on the grass. Both our faces gooey, we couldnt stop giggling at ourselves and each other. With our mouths stuffed with marshmallows, it was hard to keep them in. Anthony and I enjoyed our time like that. Not trekking back to the Mustang until about 4 o'clock, when the sky became dimmer and we were the only people to be seen outside, which I thought was odd on a Friday afternoon.

* * *

Back at the car, I let Anthony know where the only Bed & Breakfast in town was. When we got there, the sun was setting. The B&B was really just this house with a few extra rooms for any visitors to stay in. While I went to check in, Anthony did the bag carrying. The sign by the front door said for visitors to come on in, so I opened the door to see a big desk right in front, with nick nacks scattered over it. I hit the bell that sat at the front of the giant mahogany thing and looked around some more. There was an awful lot of floral wallpaper that I knew would make Anthony gag. To the right of the desk was a lounge, with floral patterned sofas. Again, I knew it would induce an Anthony gag. To the left of the desk was a door that I guessed led to the owners' part of the house. I looked back to the desk, bending down to study the nick nacks which most looked like cats. But suddenly a short fat woman, shorter than me with dulling blonde hair came through the door wearing a pink cardigan. She said hello with a squeaky voice and terrifying smile.

"Good evening. Uh, I'd like a room for two, please." I said, finding myself staring again at the creepy cat nick nacks.

"Right, well I hope you don't mind. The only two person room made up is a single queen." Anthony and I didn't mind at all. Many nights we would sleep together in the car, and it's a small car.

"No that's fine." I told the pink lady, not wanting to bother her with sorting out another room.

"Good! Name?" I told her my full fake name, Ida Smith, and paid for one night. She gave me the key as Anthony came in with our two duffels. I caught him gawking at his surroundings, and he looked me in the eye with distaste, I only poked my tongue at him. The pink lady told me where the room was, and I declined her offer to take our bags. Anthony smiled at her as he followed me up the stairs to the right of the desk. It was the second room on the right of the hallway and once inside, Anthony made puking noises straight away. Everything was roses. Everything was pastel yellow. Everything was mahogany. Anthony tossed the bags onto the bed with a thump. I cringed when I noticed the bedspread was exactly the same as the wallpaper.

"It's... Quaint." I said, choosing my words carefully, even though there was no one around to offend.

"I knew you'd say that." Anthony laughed as he pulled out the chair from the table by the wall and frowned before sitting on its floral upholstery that matched everything else in the room. I went over to a dark wood door on the other side of the room. It was the bathroom, and I decided to have a quick shower. I hadn't showered properly is about five days or so. I went back over to the bed and unzipped my duffel, distinguishing it by the near hundred band patches I had stitched on all over it over the years. I grabbed a random clean-ish t-shirt and toiletries, before heading back to the bathroom.

"I'm gonna have a shower." I told Anthony, who was studying the custom stationary on the table. He coughed and said okay. I closed the bathroom door and turned on the water in the pink shower. I began taking off my jeans when I heard someone knocking on the door to the room. Before I was even able to take off my shirt, I heard Anthony yell clearly.

"HEY GET THE HELL OFF ME!"

I didn't take a second to think before swinging the bathroom door open, wearing only underwear and a white Guns & Roses t-shirt. On the hideous bed was Anthony, with the pink lady on top of him with what looked like a fancy letter opener. She smirked at me as she sliced her palm open without even a flinch and smeared the blood on Anthony's cheek, where I could see she had cut before. I screamed at her to stop, but she only laughed. I ran at her and tackled her off the bed. She waved the letter opener at my face while I pinned her down. She was so much stronger than I expected a tiny fat woman to be, even after I saw her pin down my buff cousin. We wrestled on the floor for a few seconds before Anthony came from behind me and ripped the letter opener from her hand that I was pinning down. He stabbed her in the arm, only wanting to injure her to calm her down. She screeched, clinging to the wound. I rolled off of her and hugged Anthony. He rested his chin on my head and kissed my hair. I took deep breaths, trying my best to stay calm. Being on the road for most of the portion of my life I can remember, crazy stuff like this happens more than you'd expect. The pink lady continued to writhe on the floor and I went back into the bathroom to retrieve my things and put my shoes and jeans back on. Anthony was pulling the sheets off the bed as the pink lady only cackled. Her eyes were on me as she pointed to Anthony with a bloodied hand. I looked away. She obviously could get up, but she stayed where she was, but not noticeably defeated. I pulled the chair to the middle of the room, next to where she was lying. Anthony had pulled a yellow sheet from the bed, and gave it to me as he picked up the absolutely crazy lady and sat her down of the chair. We took an end of the sheet each and wrapped it around the chair and the woman in it, using the sheet as rope. We didn't question the pink lady, we only let her be.

"We should leave her here. Go to the sheriff, go to the medical clinic for you." I said to Anthony. He grimaced, touching the skin around the deep cut on his cheek.

"Get our stuff. Let's go now. We have to get out of town, Jamia." I did start gathering our stuff, but talked as I went.

"Anthony, no. We can't leave just yet. The next town isn't for another 40 miles, and we have to alert the authorities as well as get your ugly face checked. You might need stitches, dude." He frowned, taking his duffel from me.

"Fine. But after that. We leave. Tonight." I nodded and Anthony walked out of the room through the open door, me following behind. At the door, I looked back at the crazy woman in the chair. She turned her head and grinned at me.

"Stick close to that cousin of yours." She winked and smirked at me before turning back to face forward. How did she know Anthony was my cousin?

"Jamia!" Anthony called from the front desk and I jumped down the stairs to get to him. We rushed to the car, the orange looking dark brown in the light of sunset. We chucked the bags back in the trunk, and Anthony drove the quarter mile to the main road.

* * *

Everything was closed and no one was around, but we saw through the blinds of the medical clinic and saw some light. Anthony parked the Mustang just outside in front of a nice looking black car and we went up to the entrance, knocking after we tried to open the locked door ourselves.

"Hello?" We called, rapping on the glass. A man came up to the door, holding a handgun. Anthony and I looked at each other, worried about more crazy in this town. The man unlocked the door, and we stepped back, holding our hands in the air with the gun pointed at us. He pointed with his gun inside, ushering us to step in. He looked me up and down briefly, which made me uncomfortable, but it was something I was used to, being a woman and looking the way I do. Dyed black hair being the first thing people point out, then if it's visible, the seemingly dumb crucifix tattoo on my arm that I got when I was barely 15. In the few seconds he looked me up and down, I did the same to him. His clothes were obviously not anywhere near new, and didn't look to be for comfort either. His arms were toned under his blue jacket, and his body looked pretty fit under the thin grey shirt he wore if you ask me. Being the girl I am, I probably would have drooled looking at him if we weren't in the situation we were. His short brown hair was poorly styled, and looked like it had just been pushed back for that exact reason. His face was something else though. He held a face I would instantly recognise in a crowd. Green eyes that held all the emotion he wasn't expressing and defined bone structure was all I would need to describe him.

"Did they bleed on you?"He asked after locking the door again, his question directed at us both. His voice was deep and rough, and for a second he reminded me of my father, but I immediately forgot the thought to answer him.

"No, nobody's bled on me." I told him, rather confused. I then realised I had the blood from the woman's palm all over my white shirt. I winced, only thinking about trying to wash the blood off of one of my favourite tops.

"What about you? How did you get that cut on your face?" He asked, pointing his gun more at Anthony. He looked down and that's when I remembered how the crazy woman rubbed her blood into Anthony's.

"Oh my god." I whispered, taking Anthony's big arm. I did the quick thought process of what was going on. There had to have been some sort of serious outbreak that, I supposed spread through blood. If the pink lady's blood had touched Anthony's he probably had whatever she had.

"So you were bled on?" The man asked Anthony, sympathy in his gruff voice. Anthony only let out a sigh and a nod. When he lifted his head, I saw tears in his dark eyes and I pulled the arm I was holding closer to me to hug him.

"Come on." The man said as he walked past the reception area of the clinic. I practically pulled Anthony by the arm to follow.

"I'm Dean by the way." He told us over his shoulder.

"I'm- er Ida. This is my cousin Tom." I replied, speaking for Anthony and using our fake names. When something was upsetting or pissing Anthony off, he would be silent for hours, usually. The first time I experienced this was the first weeks after our parents died. He literally didn't say a word for more than a month. If he had this disease, this virus, and it was as serious as it seemed to be from the lockdown, then I didn't think Anthony would be saying anything for a long while.

"Uh, cousin?" Dean said as he opened a black door, with the label 'examination room' and let us in.

"Yeah. We've been together for like 10 years." I quickly realised how that sounded and swore under my breath.

"By together I mean we've literally been inseparable for 10 years. We're the only family we've got." Dean chuckled as we went inside the room, and I saw two blonde haired women, one fairly smaller than the other. The smaller one was wearing a butterfly patterned nurses' scrub and the other beside her looked to be a doctor, judging by her lab coat.

"I know what it's like." Dean said, sounding truly sincere.

"Now, Tom, isn't it? Can you just take a seat on this chair so we can tie you up?" Anthony looked down at me, alarmed. I looked to Dean and he snatched my arm from Anthony's as I went to punch him. A black man wearing a fisherman's vest came from behind us and grabbed Anthony, trying to make him sit on the chair. He rebelled and struggled from his grip. I screamed and my throat felt raw and hot tears ran down my face as I struggled from the grip Dean had round my waist. From the corner of my vision I saw the doctor and nurse woman looking terrified and half cowering at the back of the room. The black man couldn't get Anthony to sit, so a really tall guy with brown hair that flopped over the sides of his head and dressed similar to Dean also came from behind and helped force Anthony down, with his left hand in plaster. Still he struggled and screamed out, so did I. Dean covered my mouth with his hand to supress me anenthrall two men took a length of rope and tied my best and only friend to the chair. When Anthony was secure and very trapped, the three men stepped back and I pushed through them. I couldn't just untie him. That would be plain dumb. I fell to my knees and rubbed Anthony's comfortingly. His short blonde hair was all skeewiff and I couldn't help but reach up and put it back in its usual place.

"We had to do it quick." I heard Dean say behind me. I whipped my head round to face him, black hair from my ponytail sticking to my bloodied and wet face.

"It could even be seconds before he turns. He could have already turned."

"What do you mean turned?! I just told you he's all I have and you tie him to a chair!"

"We're really sorry. But your cousin is on death row right now." The tall guy stepped forward saying. His voice was soft and meaningful, but that didn't make what he said any better to hear.

"What?! No! He's fine. You people are crazy! You're going to kill him, aren't you?!" I couldn't control my anger. It all just came out of me, like water through a faucet. I had no answers. No sane people around me and the only person in the world that I trust with my soul is tied to a chair and crying.

"Ida, this is very serious. Tom has the virus and it's only a matter of time before he becomes violent and either kills us or worse, turns us." Anthony slumped his head forward, looking defeated and small. I got up and stormed the few steps to Dean, fuming. No way was anyone going to kill Anthony. If he died, I would die.

"We're strangers!" I yelled up at Dean. I barely reached his chest, but that didn't stop me from faking being as big as I could.

"We were only passing through. Please let us leave. You don't have to do this." Dean took my shoulders lightly, pushing me out of the room. I struggled a little, but I knew it would be hopeless. Dean took me outside the door and shut it behind us. I peered in through the glass, while Dean held me against the wall. Anthony was slumped in the chair with the two men guarding him. This whole situation was absurd.

"Look, kid-"

"I'm 23."

"Seriously?"

"Yes, asswipe. Now untie my cousin." I pushed Dean away from me and went to open the door again, but he grabbed my hand and gently pushed me to the wall again.

"Now, I'm gonna keep your cousin secure for as long as you both can wait... But he's going to die, Ida." Even though I was still fighting, hearing those words made tears fall.

"Please." I whispered pathetically,

"Save him." Dean awkwardly took me into a hug and I wanted to kick him in the balls or something, run away and figure out how to save Anthony. But all I did was stand there, letting him wrap his arms around my shoulders. His muscular arms reminded me of every hug I've ever had with Anthony. Our first hug; the first time I met him and actually knew his name, he was scrawnier then, but still twice my height. He had stooped to my 13 year old height and just hugged me. I thought through all the loving hugs we had shared, and every one of the hugs brought with hurt. I thought about the last time I had hugged Anthony, it wasn't even today. It was two days before, we had gotten lost on some spooky backroad and I had ended up finding a way back to the highway. You know, I don't actually remember the hug itself?

"It'll be ok." Dean awkwardly spoke into my hair. I didn't even care that it was a strange man who had tied up Anthony and was probably going to kill him, I just pulled my face into his thin shirt and tried to slow my breathing. After a few seconds, I pushed him away suddenly and mumbled,

"Thanks."

"Um, no problem."

"Can I go back in now, please?" Dean stroked his shaved chin with an open mouth and opened the door for me. I stepped inside and Anthony looked up at me, my heart broke again, but he smiled weakly at me and I almost cried again, but smiled back.

"Explanation please?" I asked the room. The doctor woman stepped forward and spoke directly to me,

"My name is Doctor Lee. I've already informed your cousin here of the situation. I took a sample of his blood, and he hasn't turned yet, but if there was blood to blood contact with someone with the virus, then he may have 3 hours at best." I looked at Anthony the whole time. He was so tiny there. I had never seen him like that. I felt more tears coming, but I swallowed them and turned to the doctor.

"How long has this been going on? How- how long have you been cooped up in here? We- we were just at the bed and breakfast... It was barely even dusk..." I trailed off, feeling the silence surrounding me. No one was looking at me, but everyone was listening. The three men in the room all spoke to each other in hushed voices before stepping out of the room. Dr. Lee ushered me over to where she had been working before with microscopes and things, and took a breath before explaining.

"Well, we believe it started with the Tanners, or somewhere close. Mr Tanner and his son Jake were infected and tried to have the same happen to Mrs Tanner. To make a short story a little shorter, Mr and Mrs Tanner were brought in by the two marshals just outside. Mr Tanner was dead, he was shot. He had been violent and not himself at all. I examined his blood and found the virus. It's nothing like I've seen before. Here, look at this. It's a sample of the infected blood from Mrs Tanner. She had contact with her son Jake's blood and turned on us while she was just sitting there." She said, shaking her head a little with bewilderment. Dr. Lee pushed a microscope to me and I took a look. From the few science lessons I attended in high school and Dr. Lee's explanation, I recognised the sample as blood cells. But there was a yellow residue on the cells that looked so out of place.

"Are the yellow bits the virus?" I asked dumbly.

"Mmm yeah. It looks like sulphur to me, but-" Sulphur. I whipped my head round to Anthony in the chair behind me. He had the same look in his eye as I probably did. We knew what sulphur usually associated with; demons. For about 10 months out of the four years we lived in Illinois together, Anthony and I researched demons. They were what killed our parents, and run us out of our home; specifically one demon. But if this was some demonic virus, then maybe it's meant for us. To kill us off after all these years of running. If that's the case, then it's not fair that all these innocent people should die too. Well, I guess that is the hell dweller way.

"Wait, does this sulphuric stuff mean anything to you two?" The nurse spoke up, sounding hopeful. Surprisingly, before I could give an answer, Anthony spoke through his silence.

"It's just surprising is all. I mean, sulphur in your blood. It's weird, right Doctor?" I breathed a sigh of relief and gave a glance of thanks to Anthony. Dr. Lee coughed before nodding at Anthony,

"Uh, yes, all this is new to me. Now um, I'm thinking if you received contact with the infected blood under an hour ago, then it probably won't be another few hours before you, well... Turn. " I looked to the ceiling to hold back more tears.

"I'll keep an eye on your sample to tell when the virus develops, but it's definite, I'm afraid." She said, pouring as much sympathy as she could to two strangers.


	2. Chapter 2

Not half an hour passed and all that went on in the room was Anthony stayed silent tied to his chair, Dr. Lee inspected her samples and the nurse, now known as Pamela, helped her. No one exactly made conversation. In that time I only learned the names of my fellow inmates at the Rivergrove medical clinic and I just sat on the floor with my head resting against Anthony's knees.

Suddenly, Pam dropped some samples. Glass smashed, blood pooling on the linoleum floor and she screamed.

"Oh god! Is there any one me? Am I okay?" Pamela panicked. I shot up from my spot on the floor and went over to see if she was alright. Dr. Lee and I both inspected her to see if she had any of the blood on her.

"You're clean, you're okay." I told her, holding her shoulders to calm her down. Just then Dean and the others came back.

"Why're we staying here? Please, let's just go." Pam pleaded.

"No, we can't, because those things are everywhere." Dean said from the doorway.

"Oh god..." Pam muttered, her breathing still not normal. Dr. Lee hushed her and I stepped back to grasp the back of Anthony's chair. Dr. Lee continued to try calm the nurse down and I spied on the three men in the doorway. They shuffled into a huddle and the tall guy I now knew as Sam spoke, mainly directed to Dean,

"She's right about one thing. We can't stay here. Get to the roadhouse- somewhere! Let people know what's comin'."

"Yeah, well, that's a good point. Night Of The Living Dead didn't exactly end pretty." I heard Dean reply.

"I'm not sure we got a choice. Lots of folks up here are good with rifles. Even with all your hardware, we're easy targets. So unless you got some explosives..." The black guy, Mark said. A few seconds passed and I looked over to them. Sam was looking to the top of a cabinet. I looked over too and saw bottles of medicines and chemicals.

"... We could make some." He said with raised eyebrows, walking over to the cabinet and taking a bottle down. I got up from the floor to say something, but before I could, a shout was heard from outside.

"Let me in! Let me in! Please!" Myself and the three men all rushed to reception, but Dean held me back from following Mark to the door.

"Just stay here." He whispered, and Sam, Dean and I stayed behind the wall before the foyer, in the reception area. On the front desk behind us in the darkness I saw weapons and couldn't imagine the marshals Sam and Dean having that kind of artillery.

"It's Duane Tanner." Mark said, putting the gun he was holding down. Another Tanner? He must be infected too. Mark went to the front door and opened the door for him. Duane stepped in and Mark locked the door again. Duane looked like he had just walked out of the woods. His face was grubby, and his blonde hair looked it too. He carried a backpack on his back and wore hiking boots.

"Duane, you okay?" Mark asked him as the two walked past us behind the wall and went down the corridor, completely ignoring us. As he walked past, I noticed some sort of bump or scar on Duane's forehead. Sam and Dean exchanged looks of surprise and Dean pulled Sam from beside me.

"So that's the guy that I -uh-?" Dean put a hand to his neck, showing he offed him.

"Yeah..." Sam replied, staring at Duane as he went round the corner with Mark. Everything tonight just keeps getting more confusing. Trying to be in the loop, I tugged on the sleeve of Sam's jacket,

"He what?" Sam looked down at me, trying to figure out something to say, but ended up ignoring me and the two walked off. I put my hands in the air, before letting them fall to my sides and said to myself,

"It's like I don't even exist." I followed behind the guys as they got near the corridor where Dr. Lee was standing. Duane was ahead, but Dean made his way beside him.

"Who else is in here?" Duane asked beside him to Mark. Dean grabbed his arm before Duane could step further,

"Hey woah woah woah woah easy, chief." Dean released Duane's arm, but took out his gun again from his jeans.

"Hey doc!" He called to Dr. Lee.

"Give Duane a good once over, would ya?" And he shoved Duane forward, following behind him back into the examination room. Everyone else followed, and Dr. Lee called for Pam who weirdly appeared behind me and pushed through me and the others.

"Who are you?" Duane asked Dean, as Dr. Lee walked past Anthony in his chair to get to her things.

"Never mind who I am- Doc!"

"Yeah. Okay." Dr. Lee said, getting together her syringes.

"Who's that?!" Duane pointed at Anthony in his chair, who lobbed his head up and looked him in the eye.

"Oh hey." He smiled, being sarcastically friendly. Duane freaked out a little, and Dean sat him down on one of the benches on the side of the room. I grinned at Anthony and squatted down at his side and Dean stood with his arms crossed beside us.

"Duane. Where you been?" Mark asked him, standing on the other side of the room, his big rifle now held in front of him.

"I was on a fishing trip up by Roselin. I came back this afternoon, I saw Rodger Mcgeal being dragged out of his house by people we know. They started cutting him with knives! I ran- I've been hiding in the woods ever since... Has anyone seen my mom and dad?" No one said anything, but Dean whispered to Sam and me,

"Awkward." Dr. Lee came over to Duane, and saw a gash on his leg, his jeans torn.

"You're bleeding." She said, inspecting the cut. Everyone exchanged glances, becoming increasingly uncomfortable about having Duane in the same room.

"Where'd you get that?" Dean stepped forward asking. Duane immediately shrugged it off, saying,

"I was running, must've tripped." Dean didn't let a second pass before picking me up from the floor, gripping my arm tightly.

"Sarge, untie Tom. At least we know he's good for the moment. Get Duane here secure." Duane stood up,

"Wait-"

"Sit down!" Dean commanded, letting me go and aiming his gun with both hands at Duane. He backed off, but Dean didn't falter. Mark untied Anthony and I enveloped him in a silent, but tight hug while the others carried on.

"Sorry Duane, he's right. We gotta be careful." Mark said, wrapping the rope over his hands.

"Careful? About what?" Duane asked. Anthony was a little limp from being tied to the chair for that long, and I pulled him to the corner away from everyone.

"Did they bleed on you?" Dean asked the same question he had to Anthony and me, motioning to Duane's cut leg slightly with his gun.

"No! What the hell? No!" I saw the same confusion and frustration in Duane as I had felt in me when I arrived at the medical clinic. Dr. Lee had stepped back to her work, away from Duane.

"Doc, can you know for sure now?" Sam asked her. Dr. Lee fiddled with her gloved hands, saying,

"I've studied Tom and Beverly's blood work backwards and forwards-"

"My mom?" Duane spoke, but Dr. Lee ignored him, not wanting him to know Mrs Tanner's fate.

"It would take about three hours for the virus to incubate. Sulfur wouldn't appear in the blood until then- um, so there's no way of knowing... Not until after Duane... Turns..." Dr. lee gave a pained look of sympathy to Duane, who still looked confused and scared.

"Dean, I gotta talk to you." Sam half whispered to Dean.

"Now." He said, making his way out of the room. Dean lowered his gun and went out of the room with Sam. Mark stepped forward into Dean's place and motioned to the chair,

"Take a seat." He told Duane, and he obliged.

* * *

In a secluded room, Sam and Dean discussed the situation.

"This is my vision, Dean. It's happening." Sam said, sounding frantic.

"Yeah, I figured."

"You can't kill him, all right? Not yet. We don't know if he's infected or not."

"Well I think we're pretty damn sure. Guy shows up out of nowhere, he's got a cut on his leg, his whole family's infected?" Dean said, raising his voice. Sam wasn't going to let Dean kill Duane. If they were any less than 100% sure, he couldn't let the guy die. He's tied to his vision, he must be important.

"All right, then we should keep him tied up, and we should wait and see." Sam said, trying to get Dean to calm down and see the situation differently.

"For what? For him to Hulk out and infect somebody else? No thanks, can't take that chance." Dean started to push Sam to get to the door, but he stopped him with a hand on his chest.

"Hey look, man, I'm not happy about this, okay? But it's a tough job and you know that."

"It's supposed to be tough, Dean. We're supposed to struggle with this, that's the whole point."

"And what does that buy us?" Dean asked, being sarcastic and wanting to do what he thought was his job to do.

"A clear conscience for one!"

"Well it's too late for that." Dean mumbled as he went to exit again, but Sam stopped him with a grasp on his shoulders.

"What the hell's happened to you?" Sam asked, trying to gain eye contact.

"What?"

"You might kill an innocent man, and you don't even care! You don't act like yourself anymore, Dean. Hell, you know what? You're acting like one of those things out there."

"Mm-hmm." Dean groaned lightly as he pushed forward to leave the room for a third time, Sam tried to stop him again, but he was hurled to the side, hitting the far wall. In the same second, Dean got out of the room and locked the door just as Sam stood up inside the now locked room. Dean started to make his way down the hallway slowly.

"Hey!" Sam yelled from behind the door, his voice muffled behind the frosted glass. He rattled the lock, trying to get out.

"Open the damn door, Dean! Don't do it, Dean! Don't!"

* * *

I sat Anthony down on the floor in the corner and sat down with him. I took his hands in mine and cuddled up close to him. I always loved being close to Anthony, his body was always warm. No one payed attention to us, and we just sat in the silence that filled the whole room.

"Who'd have thought?" Anthony suddenly spoke, his voice hushed.

"After how ever many years, this is where it ends." I pushed myself away a little. Anthony just raised his eyebrows at me, a grin spreading. It looked like the smile the pink lady had when she infected him in the first place. I debated in my head for a few seconds whether or not to believe that was no longer my cousin, that I missed saying goodbye. But I didn't move.

"Will you let me keep the Mustang?" I said lightheartedly, trying to maintain normality- no matter if it was Anthony or not. He chuckled lightly and sighed afterwards, one tear traveling down into the red cut on his cheek.

"Sure, if you keep her runnin' nice and don't wreck her then sure. You keep her safe, ya hear me?" Anthony looked at me straight, and I stared into the eyes we and our fathers shared. He wasn't talking about the car anymore, he was talking about me. I just nodded, my throat clogging with tears so I couldn't speak.

"You keep her warm at night, and fed when she needs to be. Don't let strangers touch her." We both laughed through our tears, and as I sobbed, Anthony brushed my face with his hand to wipe my tears and probably now smudged make-up.

"I don't want to find out you've been abusing her. You keep her running for as long as possible, Jamia."

"Yeah."

"Don't let her crash, Jamia. Don't let her crash..." His voice broke with his tears and I hugged Anthony close to me. He was still my Anthony and by the end of the night, he would still forever be my Anthony. Our moment was short lived, however. Dean came back into the room his gun hanging in his hand at his side, looking right at Duane.

"No no no. You're not gonna-?" I stood back up, glancing from Duane to Dean.

"No- no! I swear it's not in me!"

"Oh god... We're all gonna die..." Pam said, her arms crossed over her chest protectively.

"Maybe he's telling the truth." I pleaded with Dean. Duane could be an innocent man, and no way was I going to let him get shot for it.

"No he's not him, not anymore." Dean said, taking a step back as he raised his gun, clicking the safety off. Everyone pleaded with him to stop.

"Ask her- ask the doctor!" Duane pleaded more.

"It's not in me!" We all turned to Dr. Lee, who also stood back. She stuttered quietly, not wanting to get Duane killed.

"I can't tell." She finally said, telling the truth.

"Please- don't." Duane said to Dean, starting to cry. Dean kept his gun raised to Duane's head.

"It's not in me, it's not in me I swear." Duane whimpered, and I had to look away. There was no way to really tell if he had the virus or not. And there was no way of getting Dean to stop, unless he made the decision himself.

"I swear it's not in me- don't- don't."

"I got no choice." Dean said firmly. Duane cried more and I stepped back into the corner to Anthony. I looked to Dean and saw his lip quiver and his grip on his gun shake, not wanting to shoot the man tied to the chair. He continued to ready himself, but after a few seconds lowered his gun.

"Damn it." He muttered. Duane started breathing loudly after holding his breath for the few seconds of intensity in the room. Dean then went to storm out, but instead turned to Anthony and I.

"You have it." He said to Anthony and I immediately stepped in front of Dean's gun.

"Dean no, wait." I said, but Dean remained resilient.

"Ida, you're going to want to move."

"My name's no Ida!" I yelled, holding my hands in the air.

"It's Jamia! And he's Anthony!" Dean looked confused for a second, but then raised his gun higher to his eyeline.

"But he's still my cousin and he's still all I have in the world. Please give us a chance, or at least five minutes, please!" More tears rolled down my cheeks at the realisation that this was it. He would have to die and all I could do was say goodbye.

Dean nodded, lowering his gun again, and said,

"Five minutes." Before leaving the room. I drew in a sharp breath and sat back down on the floor with Anthony.

"Will you do it for me?" He asked, his eyes brimming with yet more tears.

"No- Anthony."

"Please. I can't do it, and I don't want Mr. Stern back there to do it. It has to be you, Jamia. Please." I looked to the linoleum floor and felt my head sway a little. Anthony gripped my shoulder to steady me. I looked to his hand and my eyes followed the arm that it attached to, to meet my eyes with Anthony's.

I've always thought of my childhood as a completely separate life to after my parents died. No one from that life exists for me anymore. I have one picture of my mom and dad, but that's it. It's been 10 years and I can't picture their faces without looking at that one photograph. My life really only began when I was a teenager, and since that beginning, Anthony has been by my side. He's saved my life countless times. Where be from walking out onto a busy road, or pulling me from my times of depression. He's always been the one to look out for me, to provide for me, to protect me. No one I've ever known has loved me like Anthony. And I thought we would be together forever. That we'd travel the country, maybe even eventually the world. But no. No, our travels end here at Rivergrove.

"Alright. I'll do it... For you." I answered, knowing he would never let anyone else do it. It was his final wish, and I was going to see it through no matter how much it pained us both. My abdomen tightened to stop myself shaking and it was beginning to hurt and it was pissing me off.

"Thank you. I love you. I will always love you... You know what you've done for me through the years, and they've been the best... You know I used to feel bad that you never got to live like other girls, but hey! You had me!" He laughed and brushed away the tears that warmed my cheek. We stayed together like that for a moment, this time it lasted. No one else in the room made a sound, except for Duane and his moaning. Dean came back in again, this time with Sam behind him. Not a word was said as Anthony and I got up and I think Dean realised what we wanted and took his time in handing me his gun. It was heavy. Far heavier than it probably was. It weighed down me, aching my shoulders from the strain. Anthony went out of the room and I went to follow. Dean gave me a short nod as he closed the door after me. We went to the supply closet next door. Inside were shelves of cleaning supplies; mops and brooms resting against the white walls. My breath was shaky and it made my hands shake, Dean's gun rattling. Anthony took my hands, and looked me in the eye. I wanted to prolong the inevitable, but also get it over with. I thought about a cure, but couldn't imagine people actually being saved from this.

"Jamia, it has to be done..."

"Yeah."

"The longer you wait..."

"Yeah."

"You can do it."

"I will."

"On the count of three... One..." I raised the gun to Anthony's forehead, my free hand clinging to his. We were an arms length apart, but it felt like an ocean's length.

"Two..." He said, his eyes fluttering closed as I clicked the safety off. My eyes flicked to the engraved patterns on the outside of the barrel for a second, thinking it a sin to think it pretty. Anthony took a deep breath before saying the final number of the countdown with me.

"Three..."

"... I love you." We said, and I pulled the trigger.


	3. Chapter 3

Four hours past, and time gradually slipped into early morning. Dr. Lee and Mark stayed in the examination room with Duane to see if he would turn or not. I didn't want to be in there, so I stuck with Sam and Dean, more so Sam. I don't know why particularly, but he just seemed to be the best to be around in a time like this. He was tall and strong, but gentle and seemed capable of handling, well, everything. Dean was too scary to be around by myself, and Sam was more comforting. The three of us were in the same room, with Pam milling around between the examination room and ours. Sam and Dean hardly acknowledged me, or each other for that matter. We sat mixing chemicals in glass bottles, making explosives. It was a boring and hard job. No conversation had been made at all, I supposed because the guys didn't want to upset me after what happened to Anthony. After hours of silence, Dean spoke first.

"Why did you tell me your name was Ida?" I finished emptying a bottle and set it down in front of me.

"Habit." I somewhat trusted Sam and Dean to not be demons, but that wouldn't stop me from keeping my secrets.

"Habit?" Dean repeated.

"My name is Jamia, but to strangers I'm Ida." I said simply. Dean frowned and went back to pouring more stuff into a bottle through a funnel. I sighed and pushed the explosive I was working on away from me, feeling like I should explain myself otherwise they wouldn't ever trust me.

"I've been with Anthony since I was 13... Well, was..." I trailed off for a second, thinking again what I would do without him.

"Anyway, uh, we were brought together after our parents died. Our fathers were brothers, and besides a 90 year old step aunt in Germany, we were the only members of the Hooks family. Um, for four years we were okay. I mean, we lived in a crappy one bedroom apartment in downtown Chicago and lived off Ramen noodles and spiral pasta..." Memories flashed before my eyes of those first years with Anthony and all those nights we sat in watching late night chat shows nobody else cared about. Him not coming home until the early hours of the morning because of the hours he worked at the repair shop and secretly working on his Mustang. The days I skipped school to do nothing but make mixtapes for Anthony and the guys at the shop to play. The days I was suspended from school and did nothing but waste eggs by making cakes. The nights Anthony would come home after a 17 hour day to my dramatic depression and comfort me until I fell asleep. I don't think about those memories very often. Not because they're hurtful, just because they happened so long ago that they don't matter anymore. I guess now though, those years are the most important. They always have been, really. In those times we shaped ourselves into a family and grew up.

"So why Tom and Ida?" Dean's low voice startled me and I blinked quickly and realised I had been thinking back for a little too long. I coughed awkwardly before going on with telling my story.

"Well we were found out by the guy that killed our parents. We ran away and changed our names. We've kind of just been traveling around the country for the last six or so years... Were... We were..." A few seconds were spent in silence, looking down at the table, hearing my words echo in my head.

"... That is a- terrible story." Dean suddenly said. Sam and I looked up at Dean at the same time.

"What?" We said together.

"Well not that you're not a magnificent storyteller, but it's sucks that that's your life-"

"Dean-" Sam cautioned.

"Well what's your story then?" I asked him, not offended by his words, just interested and wanting a distraction from the memories now filling my head. Dean looked from me to Sam, his green eyes telling Sam I was being unfair. I gave a half smirk, and said,

"I told you mine, you tell me yours. It's only fair." Dean rolled his eyes and set the funnel he was holding down. He prepared himself and took a breath to begin, but Dr Lee entered the room, interrupting him.

"It's been over four hours. Duane's blood is still clean, I don't think he's infected... I'd like to untie him, if that's alright." Sam and Dean just sat for about a minute, thinking silently. So much time passed and I was feeling more awkward than before. Dean went back to filling bottles without answering, and Sam answered for him.

"Sure. Yeah." He smiled, before Dr. Lee walked away to do as she was told. Dean made himself busy, whereas Sam next to me watched him quizzically.

"You know I'm going to ask you why." Sam said to Dean, again like I wasn't right there. I swear, it always has to be Sam and Dean. Even when it's not, they make it like it's just them.

Dean held up his explosive, checking he had the right measurements of chemical liquids.

"Yeah, I know." He said.

"So why? Why didn't you do it?" Sam asked. Dean became busier, his eyes darting between every object on the table, trying to get the right words out. In the end, he only coughed awkwardly and said,

"We need more alcohol." I decided to use this opportunity to get out from between the two.

"I'll get some." I said and got up out of my seat and went through a room just beside Sam, where the open door read 'Dispensary'. Inside, Pam was moving things in boxes.

"How're you holding up, Pam?" I asked her. She had her back to me, but turned with a box in her arms away from me as she answered.

"Good. It'll all be over soon."

I payed little attention to her answer as I went to the bench and tried to figure out which of the bottles contained alcohol. I picked three bottles and turned to go back to Sam and Dean, but I was stopped by Pam in front of me who was walking back from the now locked door.

"Infact... I've been waiting for this the whole time." She said, as she stepped closer to me.

"For what?" I asked.

"To get you alone." I had barely a second to have the feeling of uncomfort shiver through me, before Pam grabbed me by the neck. I dropped the bottles from my hands to grasp Pam's hand, single handedly choking me. I was forced against the wall by the woman in a butterfly print nurses' scrub and couldn't utter a whisper or scream. She lifted my feet from the floor and took out a scalpel. I could feel my windpipe being crushed and my head felt hot from the lack of oxygen. Pam cut the skin on my lower neck with the scalpel and I could feel the warm blood quickly pooling in my clavicle. Then, still gripping my neck, Pam slid the scalpel over the skin of her own outstretched arm and released me. I fell to the floor, spluttering and coughing for air. Pam reached down calmly and took some of her blood from her arm, straddling me, and rubbed it into the wound on my neck. It stung like a bitch, and because I finally had gotten some air, I screamed for help. The small nurse punched me in the face as soon as I did. In less than a second, she was up by the door as it was kicked in by Dean, who was wielding his gun. He shot three time at Pam, but she ducked out of the way and pushed him to the other side of the room into some shelving, making glass bottles smash on the floor. Sam had come in too, and he went to punch Pam as she turned to him, but she grabbed his fist before it hit her. Her grip on his hand was so tight, Sam couldn't get away, with his free hand impaired by the cast on it.

"Sam!" I screeched, my throat on fire in my effort.

Pam ripped the buttons on Sam's shirt with one hand, pushing his fist back with the other. She worked frantically as she cut into Sam's chest with her scalpel, rubbing her blood into his. Just then, Mark stormed in and shot Pam in the head from his stance in the doorway. Her body crumpled to the floor and masses of blood trickled on the tiles. Dean got himself up, groaning. Sam went to help him, but Mark's gun stopped him.

"Get back." He commanded sternly. Sam backed away with his hands in the air towards me, who was still close to passing out on the floor. With a gun still trained on him, Sam scooped me up in his arms. Dean half limped towards us, avoiding the infected blood of the now dead Pamela. Well, I guess she had been dead for a while. Mark put his arm out in front of Dean, stopping him from coming closer.

"She bled on them... They both got the virus."

* * *

Back in the examination room, Sam sat on a bench with an icepack held to his chest. I was on the floor, sitting with my legs outstretched, my head feeling heavy, my neck brittle. I had a bandage on the cut on my neck, but it wasn't going to do anything for me now I was infected. Everyone still alive were also in the room. Dean had been pacing, worried for Sam, hardly acknowledging me.

"Doctor, check his wound again would ya?" He said, looking at Sam who hung his head to the floor, focusing on my black sneakers. Dr. Lee stared at Sam's chest, nervous that he was going to pounce on her like Beverly had.

"Doctor!" Dean shouted.

"What does she need to examine him for? You saw what happened." Mark said.

"Did her blood actually enter your wound?" Dr. Lee pressed.

"Aw come one! Of course it did!"

"We don't know that for sure."

"We can't take a chance."

"You know what we have to do."

"Nobody is shooting my brother or Jamia." I looked up at the mention of my name, glad that at least he remembered that I'm in trouble too, and also to learn that Sam and Dean were brothers. it made sense.

"He's not going to be your brother much longer- you said it yourself!" Duane said, siding with Mark.

"Nobody's shooting anyone!"

"You were going to shoot me!"

"If you don't shut your piehole, I still might!" Of course I didn't want to die. Not like this. Not by the demonic virus in my blood, slowly changing me into something that isn't myself. Nor do I want to get shot like a dog. No, I wanted to live a long a life as I could. That was my promise to Anthony. Now that he's gone, I had wanted to live for both myself and for him. Even though my death was inevitable, I had to make a good as argument for my life as I could.

"Dean." I spoke, my voice clearly raspy from Pam's chokehold not 20 minutes ago. He turned from abusing Duane and looked down at me on the floor. Before I could build up enough saliva to speak without coughing up blood, Sam spoke.

"Dean, they're right. We're infected. Just give me a gun and I'll do it for us both." Dean and I both interjected.

"Forget it."

"No."

"Dean, I'm not going to become one of those things. Let alone stand back and watch an innocent girl become one." I frowned at the last part. I was the same age as him, and by no means innocent.

"Sam, we've still got some time." I whispered up at him. He looked down at me on the floor. He looked angry. For dying, or not being allowed to die, I couldn't tell.

"Time for what? Look I understand he's your brother and I'm sorry- I really am, but I gotta take care of this." Mark said, pulling a gun from his vest and pointing it at Sam. Dean reacted quickly, speaking fast.

"I'm going to say this one time; if you make a move on him, you'll be dead before you hit the ground, you understand me? DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?!" He shouted.

"DEAN!" Sam rumbled.

"THEN WHAT'RE WE SUPPOSED TO DO?" Mark shouted in Dean's face. The room went silent and I thought over our options. There weren't many. I was going to end up the same way as Anthony. Shot, or part demon, either way I was going to die that night. And I now hated that prospect. Dean dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out his keys. He looked at them for a second, before tossing them to Mark.

"Get the hell outta here, that's what." He said quietly, not looking Mark in the eye.

"Take my car. You've got the explosives, there's an arsenal in there, you two go with him." He said, looking from Dr. Lee to Duane.

"You got enough firepower to handle anything now."

"What about you?" Mark asked, though he seemed happy to have found a compromise. Dean looked Sam and I in the eye before giving his answer. He didn't look to be handling himself very well. Sam read what his brother was thinking from his eyes, and began another argument.

"Dean, no- no. Go with them. This is your only chance."

"Nah, you're not gettin' rid of me that easy." Dean smirked, trying to look as snarky and happy as he could.

"No, he's right, man. Come with us..." Mark tried, but Dean only looked at him, telling him no.

"Ok, it's your funeral." Mark muttered and he walked out of the room with Duane. Dr. Lee lingered for a second, looking at me and Sam, then went to the door. Dean followed her to the door.

"I'm sorry." She said.

"Thanks for everything marshals."

"Oh actually, we're not really marshals." Dean told her. I frowned. It made sense.

"Oh." She said, and walked out. Dean closed the door behind her, turning the lock. When he turned back to face us, I spoke out.

"You don't have to stay." Dean grinned,

"What? Don't want to spend some quality time with a handsome devil like myself?" Sam sighed.

"She means you shouldn't be here. You should go with the others, not stay where the the infected are."

"I know what she means, Sam." Dean snapped. Silence filled the room again, and Dean paced from one wall to another, keeping his eyes from us by looking at a framed poser of Crater Lake.

"Wish we had a deck of cards, foosball table or somethin'." Dean said, fiddling with his hands and awkwardly chuckling.

"Dean don't do this." I said, still not wanting him here. Never wanting him here, but he was stubborn. He didn't want to leave his brother.

"Just get the hell out of here." I pushed myself up using the front of the bench. I stood in front of Dean and almost fell, but he caught my arms and steadied me. I was so unstable.

"No way." He said with a glisten of tears in his eyes. At this point I couldn't tell if he was wanting to stay for his brother, or for me as well. Dean set me down to sit next to Sam on the metal bench, it was much warmer next to him than on the floor. Sam contorted his face, trying not to cry while he spoke,

"Give me my gun... And leave."

"For the last time, Sam. No." Dean walked away from us with a straight face. Sam got riled up, he threw his icepack on the floor hard and it made an awful loud splat sound that made Dean and I both jump a little. Dean looked back at his brother

"This is the dumbest thing you've ever done." Sam said, really angry with Dean now.

"Oh I don't know about that. What about that waitress in Tampa? Blurgh." If I wasn't in the same situation, I probably would have smiled at his comment. But it was dry and made me sadder.

"Dean, I'm sick. Jamia's sick... It's over for us." Hearing Sam say that finalised what I already knew. Tears flowed down my face and I wiped my cheeks angrily.

"It doesn't have to be for you-"

"No-"

"No, you can keep going!"

"Who says I want to?" Sam flinched beside me, and looked back to the floor where my shoes no longer were. Dean walked to the desk on the other side of the room, and sat next to a computer, taking his gun out from his jeans.

"I'm tired, Sam. I'm tired of this job. This life... This weight on my shoulders, man. I'm tired of it." I looked to the floor, watching my feet dangle next to Sam's, where his feet were planted.

"So what? You're just going to give up? I'm mean you're just gonna lay down and die? Look, Dean- I know this stuff with dad has-"

"You're wrong." Dean said quietly. Again, they were talking as if I wasn't in the room.

"It's not about dad... I mean part of it is, sure-"

"Then what is it about?" Sam asked, his voice now groggy from crying. Dean didn't get to answer, because the sound of doors closing and footsteps distracted him. Dean got up, picking up a gun beside him, as well as carrying his own to the door where Dr. Lee knocked. Dean unlocked the door and Dr. Lee said urgently,

"You better come see this."


	4. Chapter 4- The End

All of us stood outside. It was dark out, but the lights from the street lamps showed that there wasn't a single person out there. Anthony's Mustang was still parked behind that black car, and it broke my heart again knowing he would never get to drive his baby again.

"There's no one." Dr. Lee said as we all looked in every direction.

"Not anywhere. They've all just... Vanished."

* * *

"Well, it's been five hours and your blood's still clean." Dr. Lee told Sam and I, looking up from her microscope. We were back in the examination room, and utterly confused about all that had happened the past few hours.

"I don't understand it, but I think you both dodged a bullet." She said.

"But we were exposed." I said, bewildered, but completely joyous that I wasn't going to die.

"How can we not be infected?" Sam asked. Dr. Lee shook her head,

"I don't know. But you're just not... I mean, when you compare it to the Tanners' samples, and-" Dr. Lee paused, thinking about mentioning Anthony's name. She went to another microscope and Sam and I shifted on the examination table.

"What the hell..." She mumbled, looking into the microscope. Sam looked up from fiddling with his cast.

"What?" Dr. Lee turned on her stool to us, looking pretty shocked.

"Their blood- there's no trace of the virus. No sulfur, nothing." My heart dropped. What if Anthony could have lived?

"Are- are you sure?" I asked quietly.

"No, there's nothing. Not anymore." I got up from the table and walked out, not bothering to let Sam follow me out like I knew he would do. I went to the supply closet where I had left Anthony. I didn't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't a room of cleaning supplies and blood and no body. I gasped and held my hands to my face when I saw he was missing. Blood splattered the walls, but Anthony's body was no where. Just like everyone else infected before me and Sam. I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to see Sam standing over me with a sorry look on his face. Without saying anything, he pulled me into a hug and for once that night, I didn't cry.

* * *

When light came, the six of us remaining were going our separate ways.

"The sarge and I are getting the hell outta here, heading South. You should come." Duane said to Dr. Lee, after packing a box in the back of Mark's truck.

"Better get over to Sidewinder, get the authorities up here... If they'll believe me." She raised her hand to the two men and they made their way to their doors.

"Take care." Mark gave a thumbs up as he walked away to Dean, who was sitting on the hood of his car next to Sam. I had my head in the boot of the Mustang, feeling like crying, but not having any tears left. There wasn't really anything to do back there, I just fiddled with the patches on my bag and hid my face. Taking a deep breath, I slammed the trunk closed and went round to the side of the car and leaned on it, my head resting on my crossed arms on the roof. I had changed my shirt too, the blood was sickening.

"What about them?" Dean asked Dr. Lee, nodding his head towards Sam and I.

"They're going to be fine. No signs of infection." At the sound of the truck starting up, Dr. Lee went back inside the medical clinic, looking tired and not as scared as she had been through the night.

"So where are you going to go?" Sam asked me. I groaned and lifted my head from the orange roof.

"I haven't the faintest idea." I mumbled. Sam and Dean exchanged glances, feeling sorry for me I suppose.

"But I guess I'll keep driving." I said, walking over to the two brothers.

"I'll do what I've been doing for the last six years, but I'll do it on my own." I shook their hands as a so long. When I shook Dean's hand, I looked into his eyes that held the emotion he wasn't expressing and saw hurt and resentment. Instead of pulling my hand back and saying goodbye, I hugged Dean. I held him round the waist seeing as though I couldn't reach to wrap my arms any higher. It was a short hug, but he leant down and hugged me back. I stood back and smiled at him,

"Thought you needed it." I said and Dean smiled. It was the first genuine smile I had seen him wear after the hours of sarcastic smirks and it was nice to see.

"Thanks, Jamia."

"Stay out of trouble." Sam said and I rolled my eyes. I walked backwards towards now my car, and gave the boys a short wave.

"See ya." I said and ducked into the drivers seat. Starting up the car, I had no idea where I was going, but it wasn't going to be California.

* * *

***A/N* Yo so I have extra bits I didn't include in FEAR that I'm trying to work into a sequel, the next adventure of Jamia. And uh if any one's keen, let me know. Well done on making it to the end by the way. **


End file.
